


Holy Ground

by orphan_account



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - High School, Country AU, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-19
Updated: 2013-01-19
Packaged: 2017-11-26 00:58:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,783
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/644787
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When their teacher glared at them for whispering between each other they would sign passes to leave the room, Harry would follow Louis around most of the time.</p><p>Sometimes they would stroll the halls aimlessly, sometimes they’d sneak into the vacant music room where Louis would strum on a guitar and talk about how someday he’d be famous, and sometimes they’d sneak into the bathrooms and swap spit behind the locked doors.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Holy Ground

Louis tugged his coat tighter around his chilled torso, silently willing the brisk October wind to stop seeping through his unzipped black jacket to his tissuey t-shirt. His ankles numbed in the chill that surrounded his unsheltered ankles under his cuffed khaki pants.

The air that greeted him two steps into the Starbucks he entered was overwhelmingly warm, a momentary relief in the impending winter. He waited patiently in line to order, blending right in with hurried New Yorkers with the beanie that sat upon his head to protect not only his identity but also his ears from falling off. The teenager attending the counter gave him a strange look and Louis pretended not to notice, continuing forth with his order of a Tazo Chai Tea Latte and replacing his name with a fake, just in case.

Continuing to the ‘pick up order here’ side of the cafe, if you could call it that, he pulled his beanie a little further down his head, eyes open and alert for anyone fake texting suspiciously in his direction. The barista yelled out with an order for a grande gingerbread latte and he could spot a tall mop of curly hair in a suit make his way to the front, busily clutching his phone between his shoulder and his cheek while he muttered a thank you and simultaneously sliding a sleeve on the hot beverage. Louis stood on his tiptoes, trying to see if it was really who he thought it was, relatively unsuccessful as he bustled quickly through the swarm of people like a seasoned New Yorker.

-

The last time Louis saw Harry was when he was twenty years old. Harry’s usual bright demeanor was ridden with dark bags and bloodshot eyes. The young boy who’d sworn off coffee for life was clutching onto his mug like it was his lifeline.

It was late at night but it was one of the few acceptable days to be up at midnight. Shoppers looking for the best deal of the season with wads of cash had already been lined up outside of stores for hours.

They’d both already had their meals with their families, the annual Thanksgiving feast with food galore and lots of pie.

Louis had been dreading this moment, and from the looks of it so had Harry.

Neither knew how to do it, never having done it before. It was so hard to look into Harry’s eyes, the small town country boy who was in the process of getting chewed up and spit out of the big city, who knew his heart was about to go through the meat processor.

It wasn’t unexpected though, Louis had been pushing off his reunion with his highschool sweetheart for days now.

Louis grasped his chin, tilting it so that Harry’s eyes were forced to meet his own, “Harry, you know I love you, more than anything.”

Harry’s bottom lip was sucked into his mouth, he nodded, his voice cracking, “I know.”

Louis felt a tear slip down his face, could taste the saltiness of it. He wondered for a moment if it was because of his own emotion, or if his heart just couldn’t take the sight of this boy disguised as a man breaking down in front of his eyes, “We had a good run.”

Harry laughed but it came out strangled and croaky, like a dying horse and it reminded Louis of The Grapes of Wrath, “Promise you won’t forget me when you’re big and famous?”

“As long as you promise not to forget me when you own New York,” Louis’ arms stretched above Harry’s shoulders, not that far of a reach yet, “I really do love you Harry.”

“I love you too Lou,” Harry whispered into his ear, his mouth searching, searching for one last kiss.

-

It barely took Louis ten minutes to gain access to Columbia’s student alumni directory, and another thirty seconds to find all of Harry Style’s contact information. As a result, he’d never felt like more of a creep in his life.

It took him about thirty minutes to navigate his way to the apartment. There was no guard or a keypad at the front entrance.

It almost seemed too easy to stalk Harry Styles but Louis liked to think of it as surprising Harry Styles.

In all it took less than an hour for Louis to find out where Harry lived and arrive at the door to his apartment.

Before the sensible side of his brain could kick in, he was rapping at the fake wood door. A couple seconds later he could hear the chain slide from behind the door and a lock flick open, Harry himself emerging from behind the door.

Louis wished he had a camera because the slight drop of Harry’s mouth and the confusion in his eyes was enough for him to write a song about and then some. Louis held up his now empty Starbuck’s cup, raising his eyebrows and speaking in a condescending tone, “Grande Gingerbread Styles?”

Harry’s disbelief transformed to a smile, opening his arms wide and pulling Louis in for a hug, taking in his scent of blueberry shampoo and the slight hint of an aftershave, “Long time no see, eh?”

“Sure has been,” Louis separated, letting his eyes wander down Harry’s straight form, “Good God you’ve only grown about six inches.”

Harry chuckled, “I know, hit puberty again.”

“Balls must’ve dropped too,” Louis nudged Harry in the gut, laughing slightly as Harry tugged him inwards, “Deeper voice.”

“I’ll have you know my balls dropped-”

“I know,” Louis winked as his eyes scanned the apartment, deep red brick walls with an electric fireplace burning behind a couch, “Remember?”

“Oh I certainly remember asshole,” Harry smirked, turning around, “So do you have time for some coffee or do you have to return to Starbucks to find someone else to stalk home?”

“I didn’t stalk you from Starbucks,” Louis refuted, shrugging his shoulders, “I used the Columbia online directory.”

“Okay,” Harry shook his head, filling the coffee pot with water before pouring it into the maker, “That’s worse.”

“I’ve got the world at the tip of my fingers Styles.”

“Oh, believe me, I know,” Harry moved towards the refrigerator as Louis jumped to sit on the counter, making himself right at home, “You still drink yours with half coffee half cream?”

“Of course,” Louis’ eyes widened at the judgemental look Harry gave him, “What? At least I don’t drink gingerbread coffee.”

Harry laughed and tilted his head back as he pulled out mugs from a high cupboard, sleek white mugs that looked like a gift from his parents. “So what brings you to this side of the country?”

“You know, the usual,” Louis explained, “Little inspiration searching for some new songs.”

Harry’s eyebrows raised in questioning, a devilish grin raising on his mouth, “Looking for a new boy toy then?”

“No,” Louis’ eyes rolled, a deep sigh heaving from his lips, “I’ll have you know I’ve been happily single for nine months now.”

Harry cackled while pouring a generous amount of cream into Louis’ serving, adding a tiny bit to his own. “So happily single,” Harry sipped out of his mug, letting his fingers brush against Louis’ as he slid it into his hands, settling naturally between Louis’ legs, “That you’ve stooped to seducing your ex-boyfriend in New York City?”

“Well,” Louis pursed his lips as he wrapped his arms around Harry’s neck, digging his fingers into the rich curls, “Is it working?”

“Before I answer that,” Harry set down his mug, using his long arms to slide it a sizeable distance away from where Louis was resting, “Are you doing this just to get inspiration to write a song?”

Louis eyes softened, his nose brushing against Harry’s cheek, before he pressed a kiss to the tip of his nose, “Of course not.”

Harry smiled again, letting his hands drift to the bottom of Louis’ long sleeve white thermal, “Then yes, it’s working.”

-

The first time Louis saw Harry shirtless was the first day of summer between his junior and senior year of high school.

Harry Styles was the cute boy with the curly hair that was assigned to sit next to him in study hall. He always wore a plaid shirt with skinny jeans and in the winter he wore a long sleeved white or black thermal underneath.

There always seemed to be an inch of dirt on Harry Styles’ skin and he liked to sleep through study hall when Louis didn’t pester him for entertainment.

Eventually Louis figured out that Harry’s family owned a ranch, and that he woke up ridiculously early to help with the chickens and the cows before school, which explained the sleepiness, plaid, and dirt.

When their teacher glared at them for whispering between each other they would sign passes to leave the room, Harry would follow Louis around most of the time, being the freshman that he was.

Sometimes they would stroll the halls aimlessly, sometimes they’d sneak into the vacant music room where Louis would strum on a guitar and talk about how someday he’d be famous, and sometimes they’d sneak into the bathrooms and swap spit behind the locked doors.

On the last day of school they swapped yearbooks in study hall, Louis’ nearly packed full of signatures from students of all grades, Harry’s with scattered scribbles from freshman and HAGS from the students who were really too lazy or didn’t know him any better to write anything else.

Louis wrote a long unscripted paragraph full of innuendos and inside jokes that they’d shared over the course of the year, Harry chewed at his pen unsure of what was appropriate to write in the older boy’s yearbook.

When Harry got home from school that day he’d ripped his book open to read the passages from different people, smiling at his close friend’s jokes and disregarding most of the phone numbers that had been written in the book.

He smiled the most at Louis’, instantly wishing he’d taken more time to think over what he’d written in Louis’ book. When he got to the back page there was one last written message, well actually it was a phone number, the ten digits written with a little xox L, call me curly :D written below.

That simple number lead to Louis retreating to Harry’s house around sunset that first day of summer, it was nearing eight o’clock and when Louis had rapped at the front door of the sprawling house the maid pointed him across the street, informing him that Harry was at the ranch.

He’d jumped the entrance gate and meandered past the mostly empty farm buildings until he spotted his flock of curly hair inside an open barn. When he stepped inside he felt instant warmth despite the large fans in the four corners. It seemed to be some sort of milking station, with cows and hay and some strange mechanical equipment hanging from the ceiling.

Harry was standing with a bottle of water, rake in hand and head tilted back with his adam’s apple bouncing as he took long gulps from the aluminum bottle. Louis watched as the sweat dripped down his body, his hair pulled back by one of those headbands girls wore when they played sports.

“Hey,” Louis spoke up, Harry and an older woman in a red shirt and jeans, the only people left in the barn, looked up at him.

Harry looked partly startled at the blue eyed boy’s appearance, dressed in shorts and a t-shirt for the hot summer’s evening, “Hey Louis.”

Harry set down his rake, glancing at the floor once more before making his way towards Louis with his water bottle in hand, “I’ll be right back Starla.”

“No problem,” The woman replied, stepping over a barrier that Louis had no clue what purpose it served.

“Sorry,” Harry apologized, “We’ve got a cow in labor, I thought I would’ve been done earlier. Starla’s our residential vet.”

“Been working all day?” Louis assumed he’d been, based on what he’d heard about the farm life from Harry in study hall. He must’ve been shirtless for a while because his chest had a slight pink tinge from the sun.

“Pretty much,” Harry agreed, glancing at his watch and realizing he’d actually been working for about fourteen hours now, “The farm never sleeps.”

“I guess not,” Louis agreed, glancing over the pasture filled with cows and the setting sun in the horizon, “Quite the place you’ve got here.”

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Harry agreed, leading Louis back into the barn that had been renovated for the workers, there were microwaves, couches, and large buckets of ice water for staff breaks. Harry refilled his water bottle before they left once again, “Listen, I’ve gotta help let the horses out but after that everyone’ll be gone except Starla. We can go over to the bonfire pit and make s’mores if you want?”

“Sounds great,” Louis trailed behind Harry, intent on watching him in his natural habitat, “You pretty much run this place?”

“Yep,” Harry agreed, hopping over the fenced area where there were women in red t-shirts, busily ridding horses of saddles and bridles and escorting out the last few customers. Louis watched as Harry flowed right in, addressing all the women by their first names and watching as he made sure that a large basin of water was refilled with clean water and casually spraying a few of the guide leaders with the hose as they passed.

While one of the younger girls, probably not a day older than thirteen, began to disinfect the helmets on the picnic table he was sat on, Harry bounded over, “How good are you at counting?”

“I graduated the first grade,” Louis replied, standing up as Harry motioned for him to jump the wooden gate that served as a barrier for the guests and the horses. He followed as Harry guided him into the small shed that was attached to the gate, where visitors checked in to pay and what not.

Harry popped open the cash register with a key, sliding out the stacks of cash and disregarding the change, “You want to sort these into piles of five hundred?”

“This must be a good sign,” Louis nodded, accepting the cash from Harry’s hand and fanning his face with it, “You’re trusting me with money.”

Harry just nodded and pressed a kiss to his cheek in the empty shack, “Thanks babe, feel free to grab a water or soda from the fridge. I’ll be done in ten.”

True to his word Louis watched through the small window as Harry bade farewell to the helpers as they left, the sun now set but it was still vaguely light outside. Louis clipped the stacks together so they didn’t float away with the slight breeze blowing through. Harry entered and dropped his hands on Louis’ shoulders, letting them slide down Louis’ biceps, “2732.”

“Thanks,” Harry grabbed a green waterproof zip bag, sliding the cash in and scribbling the amount in some sort of pad with the day’s date next to it, “Okay, let’s go.”

Harry dragged Louis back to the air conditioned barn they’d been in earlier, locking up the money and grabbing the necessary ingredients from a cabinet. Harry checked in with Starla once more, making sure she was fine on her own and promising to stop by again before he went in for the night, and making sure she knew his number if she needed anything.

Louis watched as Harry scuffed his steel toed boots against the dry ground, his pigeon toed feet dragging softly. He grabbed his own red shirt but it dangled over his arm and he couldn’t imagine putting on a shirt when he was still so incredibly sweaty, “I’m sorry if I smell.”

“It’s fine,” Louis shrugged, confused as to where they were and how Harry knew where he was going in the dark. Suddenly, as if he was reading his mind, Harry flicked the flashlight on he’d brought with him, “So you really meant you pretty much run this place.”

Harry nodded, nibbling at the chocolate bar he’d already opened, handing it to Louis in offering, “I mean, Robin manages all the money, I do the dirty work.”

“Well, you wouldn’t have the money without the dirty work, would you?” Louis asked, biting the sweet chocolate himself. Within moments they’d arrived at a fire pit, Harry immediately grabbing some of the stacked wood and tossing it in an orderly manner in the pit.

Louis hunched over, lighting some small bark and grass on fire to ignite the rest, “I would’ve brought you to the other pit but it’s really only accessible by horse.”

“Aw shucks,” Louis snapped his fingers with an eye roll, plopping down on what he assumed to be hand made wooden benches that lined the fire pit. Harry had grabbed some sticks from trees on the way over.

Harry sat down momentarily while they waited for the fire to really catch, Louis slid so that there wasn’t any space between them and wrapped his arm around Harry’s middle, slowly nipping at the younger boy’s neck. Louis pretended not to notice the blush that roused on Harry’s face but eventually caving to a light giggle.

When his lips left the salty neck he retreated to Harry’s mouth, lazily smacking their lips together, waiting for Harry to reciprocate. Harry gave up, clutching the back of Louis’ head to stop the teasing and sighed as his jaw unhinged. Louis’ hand trailed over Harry’s chest, clumsily feeling the ridges where the farm labor was beginning to pay off, “I could get used to this.”

Harry blushed again, feeling the flutter of Louis’ lashes against his cheek.

-

Harry re-awoke sometime close to midnight to the sounds of someone typing vigorously at a keyboard next to him. His eyelashes brushed against Louis’ arm as he came to, the hand that was resting on his hip reviving with life.

His hand tightened tighter on his hip, eyes attempting to adjust to the bright light of the computer screen, “What the fuck are you doing with my computer at?”

“Midnight,” Louis filled for him, “Facebook.”

Harry groaned as he voluntarily shifted his body into a more upright position, “Are you hungry?”

“Depends on what context you’re implying,” Louis spared a glance and a wink.

“For food,” Harry shuffled under the sheets, sliding to the other side of the bed and shoving the covers off his body.

“Yeah,” Louis responded, a blue glow reflecting on his face. He watched as Harry slid the jeans he’d removed a few hours ago up his legs.

Harry searched through a stack of t-shirts in his closet, pulling a powder blue one over his head, “Let’s go then.”

“It’s midnight,” Louis responded dryly, “Have you seen my hair?” Louis gave him a once over, “Actually, have you seen your hair?”

“No,” Harry stood impatiently, tossing Louis his shirt, jeans, and boxers, “But I’m starving so let’s go.”

Louis shut the laptop, sliding it on the floor and moving to dress himself, “You better find me some chinese Styles or I’m not going to be a happy camper.”

“Don’t worry princess,” Harry slid his wallet and two beanies off the nightstand, “I know just the place.”

In total it took about ten minutes to walk to the Chinese 24-Hour Buffet, Louis complaining about anything and everything the whole walk (Harry it’s cold, Harry my feet hurt, Harry it’s late, Harry I’m scared, Harry this is sketchy).

The second Harry stepped in the door he was greeted by an older woman in teal garb, excitement spreading on her face in the form of a smile, “Konnichiwa.”

Harry smiled in return, pointing towards the back of the restaurant, “Usual table?”

“Oh, yes yes,” She nodded, pulling out two menus, “You need menu? Go right ahead, sit, sit!”

“We’ll take one,” Harry accepted the piece of paper she handed over, letting his hand rest on Louis’ back to encourage him to move, “Thank you.”

The woman nodded out of respect, punching some numbers into an old cash register and yelling something to a waiter in the back. Louis slid in a spot in the booth, Harry sliding the menu over to him, “You probably don’t need it, the buffet is good.”

“Harry,” Louis glanced over the top of the menu, “You do realize she greeted you in Japanese?”

“So what?” Harry settled unwrapping the napkin around his set of silverware, “It’s good food.”

“You know your mother would kill you if she saw you eating here?”

“Do you see my mother anywhere?” Harry asked rhetorically, “Didn’t think so.”

Louis initiated a staring contest across the table, breaking when someone arrived for their drink orders, both ordering cokes. Harry stood when the man left, gesturing for Louis to follow as he retreated towards the elongated table full of food. Harry went for his usual, rice, egg roll, beef, soy sauce, Louis treating himself to lo mein, chicken, and an egg roll for giggles.

By the time they returned to their table, their drinks were sat in rose colored glasses that looked like they were made in the ‘80s. Louis propped his foot upon Harry’s leg underneath the table, not thinking twice about it.

“So,” Harry sighed, mixing his rice and beef so they combined evenly.

“So,” Louis repeated and Harry glared at him.

“Whatever do I owe you for your presence?” Harry pestered, jiggling the leg that Louis’ foot rested upon.

“My rates don’t run high,” Louis shrugged, “Coffee, sex occasionally.”

Harry chuckled and shook his head, “I think it’s going to take me a while to keep up.”

“Good thing I’ve got a lot of time,” Louis winked, shoveling his own food around.

“How much time exactly?”

Louis shrugged, “Couple appearances here and there, but I’ve got no major career developments until late next year.”

-

Louis and Harry broke up right after Louis had accepted his record deal. His first album was a country piece filled with love songs he’d written about Harry.

The interviews were hard at first, he still weak after the loss of his four year love. They’d ask if he was seeing anybody, and he’d reply with a no. They’d ask who his songs were about and he would smile slightly and reply with “Someone who’s way too good for me.”

Even though there were a good thousand people at their high school that had known about their relationship, and a decent amount from Vanderbilt after Louis graduated, word and pictures never leaked about them.

He never lied, per say, to the press but it wasn’t like he ran around screaming “Look at me I’m gay!” to the nearest member of the press.

It wasn’t until he was spotted at a gay bar in Los Angeles, drunk after winning his first big award, frenching a male model that the world really became interested in his love life.

So became the string of men, always good looking and never lasting longer than four months, never living up to his highschool sweetheart. He was never single for long, picking up the next amateur within a fair amount of time.

This was also when his music began to change, his beautiful country ballads turning into bass driven radio ready breakup songs that sold millions of records.

Harry would be lying if he said he didn’t keep track of Louis’ love life during these times, well it was hard not to keep track. Every time he went to the grocery store there was his face plastered next to somebody else’s in the checkout lane.

He always attended Louis’ concerts when he came to the city, going by himself and feeling pathetic sitting next to the teenage girls who thought that maybe, maybe they had a chance with the Louis Tomlinson even though they knew he was very, very gay. And maybe, maybe he’d get the chance to listen to one of those beautiful songs Louis had written for him just one more time.

-

Louis startled early the next morning, well early for a Saturday at least, to Harry’s phone buzzing loudly from the opposite side of the room. He groaned loudly, not so subtly kicking Harry in the shin in an ‘I’m not freezing my ass off to get your pathetic phone for you’ way. Harry groaned as well, throwing the covers off his nude body before the buzzing got worse.

When he slid back under the covers, tugging them up to his chin in the chilly apartment, Louis rolled over and fluttered his eyelashes in a pathetic way. “Why on earth are we up this early?”

“It’s eleven Lou,” Harry responded, lifting his arm for Louis to rest on, letting him curl in closer to conserve body heat.

“That’s at least three hours too early,” He nuzzled his nose into Harry’s chest, crinkling his face at the slight whiff of Harry’s armpit.

“I’ve got company coming over,” Harry plucked at the keyboard on his phone, “Giants are playing the Cowboys.”

“You’re shitting me,” Louis nuzzled even further into Harry’s chest, “Football Styles? Football, of all things?”

“What?” Harry responded defensively, “My friends like football.”

“Harry,” Louis sat up, “Eighteen year old you would not have watched football with his friends, much less host his friends to watch football.”

“First of all, I didn’t host anybody at my house when I was eighteen,” Harry corrected, “Second, I’m not eighteen. Third, you don’t have to watch football.”

“Are you saying I can stay?” Louis rested his chin on Harry’s shoulder, wrapping his arms around the upper portion of Harry’s chest.

“As long as you don’t make an ass out of me,” Harry slid the covers off himself, “Okay?”

“Does that mean that I should play up the southern accent?” Louis asked, “Or try to rid myself completely of it?”

“I don’t care Louis,” Harry sighed, “Are you going to come shower?”

“Wow, jeeze, don’t sound so excited.”

“Can you just do me one favor Louis?” Harry asked as he slid the towels out from under the counter, “Can we just play down the whole ‘we dated for four years in high school’ thing?”

Louis slipped into the shower, wiping condensation off the glass panel and making a puppy dog face through his little hole, “Are you ashamed of me Harry Styles? Or do they not know you’re gay? Because, in that case I’ll-”

“They know I’m gay, okay?” Harry slid his own body behind the glass partition, “But I don’t know, admitting that I dated you for four years is kind of overwhelming to people.”

“In what sense?”

“In the sense that nobody believes me Louis,” Harry hissed, squeezing some shampoo onto his hand, “In the sense that my college roommate thought I was going insane.”

“Well it’s gonna cost you,” Louis reasoned, rinsing the scrubs out of his lathered hair.

Harry let his hands rest on Louis’ shoulders, pulling himself closer to the petite boy’s soft body, pressing a kiss to his chin as he tilted his head back in spray, “What’s it gonna cost me?”

Louis winked with a grin on his face, moving to replace his body with Harry’s, “Only your dignity.”

-

The first time Harry meet Louis’ family was when everything was beginning to fall apart. Louis’ father had moved out, gone to Georgia, and his mother was rushing about with tear stained cheeks and red eyes in her nurses’ uniform.

Her dinner had gone badly, she’d somehow turned off the oven instead of the timer and the chicken never cooked. Harry had managed to escape the farm early, intent on helping Louis with his sisters and his emotions that night.

Jay was on the verge of a breakdown when they stepped in, flustered and tired and arguing with one of her daughters. One of the twins was wailing and Louis shot him an apologetic look and scooped the three year old in his arms.

Harry made himself busy, rummaging through the pantry for something, anything really, that he could throw together. He felt he was the experienced one here, having already dealt with a divorce.

Jay hadn’t even noticed him until a warm waft of spaghetti was flowing through the house and he was popping slice by slice of bread in the toaster, buttering each and sprinkling with some garlic salt.

“Oh dear,” Jay fluttered a hand over her chest as she stepped into the kitchen and was startled to see an unfamiliar boy, Louis trailing her with a thumb sucking twin in his arms, “My goodness you must be Harry?”

“Yes ma’am,” Harry presented her with his hand, “I hope you don’t mind me taking over?”

“Oh, no, no dear,” She adamantly shook her head, “I’m so, so sorry this has to be like this but I have got to run. I need to get to the hospital, I’m already late.”

“No problem,” Harry smiled warmly, winking at the little girl that Louis held in his arms, Jay turned around to glance at Louis with a smile on her face.

“Really, Harry, I wish I could stay,” Jay peppered a kiss on the little girl’s cheek and Louis’ as well, “But thank you so much for salvaging supper, it means a lot.”

“It’s the least I can do.”

“Lou, I’ll be home in the morning,” Jay grabbed her keys, “You sure you’ve got everything?”

“It’s fine mom,” Louis agreed, the other twin bounded in and clutched at Louis’ leg, he picked her up as well, “Go, now.”

“Okay,” Harry could tell tears were pricking at her eyes and she rushed before she could succumb, struggling with the fact that she now had to resort to leaving four small children with her teenage son just so she could pay the bills.

Louis sighed and sent Harry a pleading thanks, “You can round them up if you want, I’m almost done.”

Harry did his best to entertain as he possibly could, played with the younger girls as Louis had some sort of serious talks with the older two. He’d played a mean round of James Bond and Pepsi with the older girls while Louis put the twins down, bumping knees with Louis as he sat down to join them.

By ten o’clock Louis was exhausted and tears were pricking at the corners of his eyes and Harry was calling home and telling his parents that he was sleeping over at a friends house. By ten thirty Harry had Louis curled in his sides, fisting his shirt tightly, and breathing softly into his chest.

-

Harry cringed while watching Louis make conversation with his friends, and incidentally coworkers, over a plate of nachos, chips, and some Buffalo wings that Niall had brought along. Harry had stuck to his cup of coffee, choosing to avoid the offending delicacies so early in the day.

Liam nudged him in the side as he held onto a bottle of beer, wiggling his eyebrows in a suggestive manner. Harry responded with a sly smile and a shrug and Liam laughed at him. Harry sat his coffee down on the counter after proceeding toward where Niall, Louis, and Zayn were hunched together. Without even knowing what the conversation was about he could feel his cheeks redden just by the belly busting laughs they were delivering.

Harry tossed an arm around Niall’s shoulder, “Alright, what’s he saying to brandish my reputation now?”

“Don’t worry,” Louis rolled his eyes in that over the top way of his, “I was only telling them about the time I convinced you to be the extra in the school play, and you asked me to touch you instead of to trust you.”

Harry chuckled, “That’s it?”

“Can’t give all the good stories away the first day, can I?”

“Touche Tomlinson.”

-

Louis was finally picking up some steam in the music industry when it was Harry’s turn to apply to colleges.

Of course he’d applied to Vanderbilt. Of course, he had to.

But when he received his acceptance letter to Columbia he knew that’s where he was going, deciding that he’d probably already caused his family enough turmoil and not following in Gemma’s footsteps to a school that wasn’t family tradition.

After what would be their fourth and last summer together, Harry packed his bags for New York and took his 35 on the ACT with him.

The worst part was that Louis wasn’t with him, that he was on tour opening for his favorite country artist and they’d already had their tearful goodbye. But it just wasn’t the same.

-

Louis was lounged across Harry’s bed in oversized green plaid pajama pants and an old grey Columbia University sweatshirt that smelled like the new Harry, not farm Harry. Harry sat next to him, typing away on his laptop and rearranging graphs in a powerpoint.

“Harry,” Louis sighed, dropping his phone on the bed, “I’m bored.”

“And what am I supposed to do about that?”

“You’re supposed to entertain me,” Louis exasperated dramatically, “Be a good host.”

“If I recall correctly,” Harry momentarily switched his attention to his cell phone, “You were the one who showed up at my apartment two days ago, unexpected, and haven’t left since.”

“You could at least get a tv in here or something,” Louis continued with his tangent, rolling onto his side and resting his chin on Harry’s shoulder, “Business school made you boring.”

“There’s a TV in the living room,” He didn’t even flinch from Louis’ movements, “Besides you know what your mom says about TV’s in the bedroom-”

“If you need a television in your bedroom for entertainment there’s something wrong with your life,” Louis mocked in a feminine tone, “I know, I know, but if you would cooperate with me then I wouldn’t need a TV for entertainment.”

“Lou, I have to make this presentation tomorrow,” Harry nudged his head to the side in attempt to get Louis to move, “I have an idea.”

“Would this idea contain you and me getting frisky?”

“No,” Harry sighed, “This idea would contain you, going to your apartment to get your own underwear so you can stop stealing mine and getting me some food.”

“Har-ry,” Louis whined, “You know I can’t cook.”

“I know, however I also know you used to make the best macaroni and cheese in all of Tennessee.”

“You disgust me Styles,” Louis pinched at Harry’s cheek, “Using me for my mac and cheese and sex.”

“Whatever you say dear.”

“Now that’s what I like to hear.”

-

The first time that Louis is afraid of an impending breakup is after only a year and a half of dating. The sole reason being that Louis has graduated highschool and is off to college at Vanderbilt.

He insists to Harry (himself really) that it’s not far, and really it isn’t. The entire year and a half that they’d been together they had driven down to Nashville every weekend, dropping Louis’ demos off at various record labels.

They obviously don’t see each other nearly as often, but Harry picks Louis up in his Ford and they go to the farm and Louis watches Harry and they grab horses to ride on and go to the little spot behind the creek like they always did.

Louis joins Harry’s family for dinner sometimes and he is reduced to a mumbling idiot in front of his family and can tell Harry isn’t that comfortable either.

But it ends up working out and sometimes Harry sneaks up to Louis’ dorm and stays the night in his cramped bed. When Louis’ roommate isn’t around they get up to a bit more than sleeping.

-

“Harry,” Louis groaned, sprawled on his stomach in the middle of the bed, “It’s six A.M.”

“I hav’ta,” Harry paused, toothbrush hanging out of his mouth as he pushed through the button ups hanging in his closet, “Getta fork.”

“You have to get a fork?”

“Mph,” Harry groaned, sliding slick black tailored pants up his legs, “Go to work.”

“When did you get so responsible?”

Harry threw his head back with a sick amount of energy for six in the morning, “I’ve always been responsible, at least, more responsible than you.”

“Is that supposed to be an insult?” Louis cringed as his muscles cracked when he rolled onto his back, throwing his arm over his eyes to shield him from the light, “If it is, it’s not working.”

“Just a statement of fact,” Harry leant over the bed, tickling at Louis’ hip while leaning over to press a kiss to his cheek.

“Wait,” Louis grabbed at Harry’s wrist as he turned to walk away, “Are you really just going to leave?”

“Well, yeah,” Harry confirmed, succombing to Louis’ twining of their fingers, “That’s how it works, leave the house, walk to the subway, get off the subway-”

“I know,” Louis tugged at his hand, “Don’t leave me.”

“Lou, I have to go to work,” Harry recoiled, attempting to pry his hand from Louis’ tight grip.

“Babe,” Louis scolded, “Can I at least take you out for lunch? Or maybe your post-work Starbuck’s?”

“I would be honored,” Harry bent to press one more kiss, to his lips this time, “But I have to go, I’ll see you for lunch.”

-

When Harry tells his parents he’s gay it’s six months after he’d first kissed Louis.

His mother sits on the couch in dead silence, the only time he’d rendered his mother speechless.

Harry glances up from his feet, tears pricking the corner of his eyes, “I’m sorry, please say something.”

Harry’s sister is gone at college, it’s just his mother and Robin. Dinner is being prepared in the room next door. His mother stands up and leaves the room, Robin follows.

Harry eats by himself at the table, mumbling grace under his breath and tears staining his cheeks.

He joins his mother and Robin at church the next day, every Sunday per usual. He offers peace to the people around him but his parents still do not acknowledge him.

Harry returns on Wednesday, gives a call to the priest to make sure that he’s not busy. He doesn’t judge Harry and he’s glad, he confirms Harry’s suspicions and says that his parents have been in to talk to him everyday since they found out. He says that it doesn’t make him a bad person, that he’s always available to talk if he wants, that shunning him would make him feel like a bad catholic and a worse priest. He tells Harry to give it time, that his parents just need to absorb the information. Harry feels relieved when he suggests him some prayers and doesn’t kick him out of the church.

So Harry prays a lot and finally a week of silence later his mother acknowledges him at their daily six o’clock dinner, “I would like to meet this boy.”

Harry perks up and he takes it as a good sign, that maybe his conservative mother is warming up to the idea but not getting his hopes up too much, “Yes, of course.”

“As soon as possible,” She wipes her mouth with her cloth napkin, “Can he come tomorrow?”

“Yes, yes,” Harry nodded vigorously, “Of course, I’ll call him right away.”

Anne nods, staring at her plate.

Louis arrives a half an hour early the next night, dressed his best like Harry warned, his dress shirt that he wore to school dances tucked into his black slacks and a tie his father left behind wrapped around his neck.

Harry descends the steps, dressed well also, and noting that his mother is not waiting in the family room motions for Louis to come upstairs as well. Harry fixes Louis’ tie for him, instructs him on proper manners and when to use which fork and reminding to use the spoon at the top of the plate first.

Neither is sure who is more nervous, but Louis realizes that if he doesn’t impress Harry’s probably got more at stake.

Louis fumbles nervously all night, but what he doesn’t know is that Anne likes foreigners to feel this way and takes it as a sign that Louis is really trying and she appreciates that. She drills him on his intentions, just as she would any boy that Gemma brings home. She asks him where he’s applied to go to college and Louis rattles of his list but notes that Vanderbilt is his top choice.

The hardest part to get through is when she asks what he plans to do with his life and answers with his standard college plan that his own mother is making him go through for safety but adds that he wants to be a singer, a country singer.

Louis is still nervous by the time that dessert and coffee is served, willing himself to stop shaking so that they wouldn’t hear him set his unsteady coffee cup back on its saucer. Harry’s foot brushes against his under the table and it startles him and Harry tries not to laugh as he jumps.

At the end of the night Anne shakes his hand, “It was very nice to meet you Louis.”

“You as well Ms. Cox,” Louis replies, hoping she doesn’t notice the nervous sweat on his hand as they shake.

Harry ushers him out of the formal dining room and out the front door, practically leaping on him the moment they exit the door. Louis lets a smile grace his face as Harry presses quick pecks to his lips, speaking in between each peck, “You. Were. Great.”

Louis shrinks and feels small after the encounter but Harry seems more than positive and that’s satisfying enough, “The last boy Gemma brought home left before the main course.”

Louis nodded, hands finally calming down, “Good.”

“Oh my God,” Harry throws his arms around Louis’ neck, “I love you.”

Louis knows that Harry says it as a joke but he can’t help but feel overwhelmed and pulls away, Harry softens and Louis presses his lips against Harry’s once more, “I love you too.”

The porch lights flicker and Harry knows that no one can see them but he slinks back anyway, “I guess that means I should go back in.”

“Yeah,” Louis agrees, “Call me after you talk to them.”

“Okay,” Harry rests his hand on the doorknob, “Text me when you get home, alright?”

“Bye,” Louis waves, stepping back to his old rusty car that seems entirely out of place.

-

Louis whistled as he arrived at the sprawling skyscraper, double checking the address that Harry had sent him. He pushed his way through the giant doors, giving his request to the secretary and stepping back to wait for Harry to descend upon the escalator.

He checked behind the glass doors once again, willing the trailing paparazzi to leave after they’d already trailed him from his apartment. Harry appeared with a smile and a black coat tossed over his arm. His white button down was tucked meticulously into his black pants and his skinny black tie was slightly skewed to the left.

Louis reached on his tiptoes to wrap his arms around the taller boy’s neck, receiving a kiss on the cheek in response. Once released, Harry slid his black coat on, “Looks like someone went home.”

“Yeah,” Louis glanced down at his own apparel, black cuffed jeans with fresh sneakers, long sleeve thermal under a denim jacket, “You look really good. Nothing quite like a man in a suit.”

Harry smiled warmly, “Well, do you have anywhere in mind?”

Louis propped the door open with his foot, “There’s papz, fyi.”

“That’s fine,” Harry chuckled, fingering his wallet in his pocket, “Are you up for Italian?”

“Sounds good,” Louis followed as Harry turned right outside of the building, large feet padding down the quickly filling sidewalks of business people leaving for lunch and tourists wandering with wide eyes, two lone men following them with cameras. Another two people stopped him for pictures, Harry patiently braced the camera and told them to ‘Smile big!’ Louis nudged him in the side as they continued for their walk, muttering an apology.

Harry didn’t care, not at all. Louis’ shot to fame hadn’t surprised him at all, he had the personality, the looks, the southern charm, the poppy barely country anymore songs that were always on the radio, the inconsistent love life, the small town boy with quiffed hair and a guitar look that America could eat up.

Harry rounded a corner a couple blocks down, pushing into a fairly busy italian restaurant with tacky decor but smelled like heaven. Harry greeted the hostess, once again, by first name and Louis nudged him in the stomach with a smile, “You know everyone, don’t you?”

“It’s a small world,” Harry shrugged, and Louis shook his head because New York City was probably the last place in the world he pictured Harry ending up. He let his hand clutch at Harry’s elbow as more people filed through the door and they waited for a free table.

They made small talk as they waited and once again at the table, catching up with what had happened in the past four years of their lives, Harry talking about his new job and Columbia. Louis pretended that Harry didn’t have access to everything that had happened in his life the past three years.

Louis laughed at Harry’s recount of the girl he’d dated temporarily as a freshman, set up through his mother, which hadn’t exactly been terrible until she’d drunkenly slid his hand down her bra in a corner of a frat house. Real southern belle there. “They were just so big,” Harry muttered, as if Louis hadn’t palmed one himself, “And, like, squishy.”

Then there was the year long relationship from the end of his junior year that lasted the majority of his final year at Columbia, an older man who apparently believed in a different definition of monogamy than he did.

Louis shrugged because it’s not like he’s had any better luck with the constant string of cute boys that broke his heart. It was all fine though because they payed the bills with the breakup songs he wrote about them.

Harry was quick to change the subject, used to Louis’ pace of conversation and personality. Louis ordered something with a white sauce, Harry something with a red, and they ended up swapping plates a few bites in.

Louis walked Harry back to work, separating once again with a hug, Harry whispering a “See you at home” in Louis’ ear. After he turned around to retreat to the elevator, he quickly jogged back in his leather shoes, digging in his pocket and retrieving a key, pressing it into Louis’ hand with an arrogant smirk and jogging back to the elevator before the doors closed without him.

-

“You know, one day I’m gonna be famous,” Louis whispers to Harry while cuddled into his chest, “And you’re going to be my mega-hot boyfriend who travels with me all around the world.”

“Really?” Harry questions, only half awake but finds this whole conversation quite comical.

“Yeah,” Louis trails his finger down Harry’s chest, “And we’re going to have houses in L.A. and Nashville and a cute little apartment in Paris for Valentines day.”

“Do I get any say in this?” Harry plays along, thinking this is just Louis daydreaming in his usual way.

“Maybe I’ll let you pick what color we paint our bedroom,” He presses a kiss to Harry’s earlobe.

Harry nods, thinking with every day he learns more and more but feels like he knows his boyfriend less and less.

“I’m serious Harry,” Louis whispers, pushing up on his elbow to look him in the eyes, “Don’t you believe in me?”

“Louis William Tomlinson, I am your number one supporter.”

-

Louis stayed with Harry the majority of the months leading up to Christmas, only leaving for a movie premiere and a very quick Thanksgiving. Harry spent majority of the days working, Louis spent his wandering around the city, meeting strangers and playing grand pianos in music shops.

They did however venture out for Halloween, Harry in a Scooby Doo bodysuit and Louis in a pathetic bat t-shirt and a shit load of facepaint. Surprisingly, nobody recognized Louis at the party they’d attended and they’d been able to spend the night in blissful ignorance.

Christmas approached quickly, they spent their time crawling through shops for the perfect gifts for their families and keeping an eye out for each other. On the twentieth, they booked seats next to each other and flew out of Jersey back home to Nashville.

Immediately after stepping outside of the airport, the slight warmth flushed over them while they waited for Louis’ chauffeured vehicle to round the pick up lane. When they arrived at Harry’s sprawling house their lips were stuck together like a child’s tongue on a frozen street lamp.

It was almost as if being in their small childhood suburb transformed them to teenagers once again. Hands were glued to each other’s waists, roaming over the surface of their clothes and breathing heavily and attempting to suck hickeys on each other’s necks.

About two minutes after he announced that he should probably exit the car, he actually got out, giggling like an eight year old girl after she blew out the candles on her birthday cake. He sucked in a deep breath and adjusted the light blue button up he was wearing, re-tucking it into his pants before his mother scolded him about it.

Two days after Christmas they reunited, Louis driving his old car to Harry’s farm. Like usual, a maid greeted him at the door as Harry was bounding down the elegant staircase, greeting him with a chaste kiss and grabbing his hand to tug him out the door.

Harry chatted about his holiday, asking if the girls liked the presents Louis picked out for them as they crossed the residential street and hopped over the metal gate. It was the day that they reopened to the public, horseback riders arriving at the stables. They strolled past the familiar path to the main entrance of the ranch, passing by the milking shed and popping in to see the day’s progress. After passing by the silo they were meet with the bustling business of the stable, a main source of income for Harry’s family.

In the stable Louis helped Harry in the rush of workers running by, Harry shouting out and asking what horses had been taken out already. Harry walked immediately to one of the few horses still left in the stable, the ones that were probably owned by the riders that weren’t out leading tours already. He grabbed a brush, stroking down the hair of a brown horse with a few black spots. Louis fed the same horse a sugar cube that he’d grabbed on the way in as Harry brushed down the aisle to grab two of the clean saddle blankets that rest in a pile. Louis helped, knowing well enough to grab a saddle for himself and carrying it outside of the barn and resting it on a wooden post where visitors waited for staff to assist them onto their respective horses.

Harry returned outside when his horse’s tack was complete, clicking lightly with his mouth to encourage his horse to move with him as he guided it. An older woman, someone that Louis recognized, guided another horse over by its reins, leaving it for Harry to fix a saddle. The horse was grey, not particularly large, “This is moondance.”

Louis smiled and stroked its neck, waiting as Harry appropriately tightened the various straps around the horse’s belly in his red crew neck sweatshirt that branded the ranch’s name on his chest. When he finished he assisted Harry up the left side of the horse, smiling as he placed his hand on Louis’ bum to help him up. Harry loosened the stirrups to the appropriate length before straddling his own horse, starting off at a slow walk in the congested area.

They passed a group finishing their ride, Harry waving at the young girl leading the group. Harry lead through the open field that used to be a field where the cows grazed, towards the familiar wooded area. Harry attempted to fall side-by-side with Louis’ horse, but that’s easier said than done when Harry’s horse was trained to lead and Louis’ was trained to follow.

They passed through the wooded area and another open field that was originally used for crops, before wading through the small creek to the area that was rarely visited. Both dismounted their horses, leading them graze in the tall grasses. There was a small shed, a bonfire pit, and an old log bench by the creek. Harry entered the shed, grabbing a few pieces of wood, a blanket, and a lighter to start a fire. Louis busied himself spreading the blanket on the ground, spectating as Harry moved mechanically.

He settled down next to Louis, curling into his side. Louis sighed, resting his chin on Harry’s shoulder, “You know, sometimes it feels like we were never apart, and sometimes it feels like we were apart forever.”

“It’s been a long time since we’ve done this,” Harry agreed, stretching to lie on his back, Louis following suit and resting his head on Harry’s chest as he wrapped an arm around his back, “I’ve missed it.”

Louis grinned into Harry’s chest, “We haven’t even been here a week and your accent is back.”

“So is yours,” Harry’s hand slithered up Louis’ back to play in his hair.

“Do you ever think,” Louis paused, “About moving back here?”

“All the time,” Harry replied, eyes cast up at the grey sky, “I miss you in your jean jackets.”

“I always wanted to leave when we were teenagers,” Louis’ hands traced squiggles on Harry’s chest, “Now I want to just stay here.”

“Well,” Harry smiled, “Maybe if you stick around this time.”

“What do you mean?”

“Mom said,” Harry licked his lips, “I’m inheriting the ranch.”

Louis stopped, raising his head to look Harry in the eyes, “Really?”

“Yeah,” He nodded, “Mom and Robin are going to retire to the Phoenix house, Gemma’s going to stay in California, I’m gonna run the ranch.”

Louis traced down Harry’s arm, reaching over to link his hand in Harry’s, “We’ve had some good times out here.”

“God,” Harry nodded, “Those were the good days.”

Louis chuckled, shaking his head slightly into Harry’s chest, thinking that they were only 22 and 25, and that provided their streak of luck they might be able to have some more good days out on the ranch.

-

The first time Harry hears one of the songs Louis wrote for him is at that sacred spot of theirs at the end of their first summer, they managed to sneak a guitar out and stashed it in the little shed.

Louis strums mindlessly, Harry watches like always. Louis doesn’t realize it, but it’s that song he’d written about Harry, that he played endlessly in his room for hours, began to leave his lips. Harry’s head lolled back, tired from his constant work but asked what the song was.

Louis said it was one that he wrote and Harry listened more intently, “Is it about me?”

“Maybe,” Louis shrugged with a smile on his face.

“Play it again,” Harry demanded softly, finding it hard to be intimidating.

-

After rushing quickly back to the stables and across the street to Harry’s house the two slid into the shower together. Both scrubbed at their bodies vigorously, letting the dirt and grime turn the water black as it flowed down the white tiled floor into the drain. Harry stepped out of the shower first, into his adjoined room to call for the maid to bring up their ironed clothes. Louis stole the hairdryer from its spot under the sink, quickly blowing and styling his hair back into its usual quiff with some of Harry’s product.

When Harry returned to the bathroom, his slacks were lax around his waist, the black button dangling open and revealing his slick black Calvin Klein’s, “Your stuff is hanging up.”

“Thanks,” Louis passed the hair dryer, running his hands through his hair one last time before sliding an expensive watch back up his wrist and glancing at the time, “Shit we’ve got less than ten minutes.”

“I know,” Harry vigorously shook his head in attempt to dry his hair faster, “Can you find me a tie?”

“Yeah,” Louis disappeared to Harry’s room, shimmying into his own clean black jeans and buttoning a white shirt with a black collar up his chest, completing his look with a blazer and tucking his shirt in his jeans. He slid out a diagonally striped tie for Harry, slick and black and simple. Harry stumbled out a few moments later, stretching socks on his feet mid hop. Clumsily, he fumbled with the buttons on his white ironed shirt. Louis reached up, knotting the tie around his neck while he fumbled with silver cuff links on his wrists.

“How are we doing on time?” Harry questioned, Louis straightening out his tie as he stood up a little straighter.

“Mm, 57,” Louis mumbled, “Grab your shoes and let’s go.”

Harry selected suede shoes that zipped up the side, quick fix. Holding his arm out, he felt Louis grasp onto as they descended the stairs. Harry’s mother and stepfather were waiting in the parlor already, her with legs crossed and her sipping at a glass of wine and him with something on the rocks and a lime floating on the top.

Harry’s mother raised at their entrance, glancing at the watch the adorned her own wrist, “Ah, just in time boys.”

Harry lived in a household where early was on time, and on time was late, so this really was a compliment at its finest, “Of course mother.”

Louis let go of Harry’s elbow as he embraced her, pressing a kiss to her cheek, Louis accepted her hand which was really as much physical contact with her than he’d ever had before, “Well, Louis, it’s a pleasure to see you again.”

“You as well Mrs. Cox,” Louis knew better than to call her by first name, boyfriends were to strictly address by the last name, only after marriage could first name be an acceptable form of greeting (Although Louis doubted that anyone to marry into the family would have the guts to address them by first name).

“Can we offer you anything to drink? Perhaps a glass of wine or some scotch?” Anne offered, “Harry, gin and tonic as usual?”

“Yes mother,” Harry responded, waiting for his mother to resume her seat before sitting down, “Lou, what would you like?”

Louis’ hand once again snaked through Harry’s arm, his thumb tracing the crease of the joint, “I think a glass of red would be lovely.”

“Good choice,” Anne nodded approvingly, “Well it certainly has been a long time, has in not?”

“It certainly has,” Louis confirmed, “I feel much older now, no more Shirley Temples for us.”

Anne let a laugh escape her mouth, “Certainly not.” Anne was crisp, clean, and the definition of put together, “I’m going to be honest, I never thought the music thing was going to work out, but it’s been going quite well, hasn’t it?”

“It’s been amazing,” Louis excepted his glass and a petite napkin, “More than I could’ve ever imagined.”

“I’m sure,” Anne continued with the small talk, asking Harry how the stable was running and discussing how well business was doing in the winter. A few minutes later, at precisely six fifteen, a maid entered claiming that supper was ready. Per usual, they all raised and waited to the dining room, candles were arranged in a center piece and napkins were folded in three dimensional triangles on top of the service plate.

Since his first dinner at Harry’s house he’d had a lot of practice with formal dinners, not only the occasional Saturday night dinner at Harry’s but also at quite a few since signing his record deal. He didn’t fumble with the forks and he knew to drink out of the water glass before the champagne glass, to tilt his fork upside down in a European way. His napkin was folded on his lap and he sat opposite of Harry.

Per usual, they held their hands out, grasping lightly at their neighbors as Robin lead their prayer, “Our Father, Who art in Heaven, Hallowed be thy…”

Louis peeked out of one eye, watching as Harry moved his lips with his eyes closed like everyone else at the table. Somewhere around ‘trespass’ he poked an eye open as well, smiling softly across the table at Louis. Everyone finished with an ‘Amen’ and the heads popped back up. A basket of rolls was passed around the table, everyone being careful so as to not spill crumbs everywhere as they broke their bread to spread butter. The maid, Marta, began to bring out their bowls of soup, everyone sipping but not slurping at the tomato bisque that was delivered. Louis had learned to pace himself, knowing that salad, the main course, and dessert was still on its way.

“Louis, I hope you still appreciate a good serving of goose,” Anne commented from the end of the table, spooning her soup away from her body.

“Of course,” Louis smiled, locking eyes with Harry momentarily.

“Well, how has New York been treating you?”

“It’s very busy,” Louis responded, resting his spoon appropriately to sip from his water glass, “Which probably suits me fairly well, but it’s always nice to come home and enjoy the peace and quiet.”

“Oh, yes, I’m sure it is. I don’t understand how you boys can constantly tolerate the city, to be quite honest I’m surprised Harry has lasted so long,” Anne was freakishly good at eye contact, boring through Louis’ soul, “But how is your family doing?”

“Great, actually,” Louis nodded, knowing the last time he’d seen Anne was at the end of the nasty divorce between his parents, “The girls are getting older, mom’s doing great, keeping busy.”

“Of course,” Anne nodded, “I can imagine with four teenagers and a superstar son. Do you intend on moving back after you get married? Surely Harry has informed you he will be taking over the ranch.”

“Mother,” Harry coughed, Louis blushed, “Can we tone it down with the third degree please?”

“Harry,” Anne’s tone dropped, “I do not appreciate-”

Against better judgement, Louis interrupted, “It’s fine Harry, really, nothing bad.”

“See?” Anne made a gesture with her hand, “Continue Louis.”

“I would love to move back down here,” Louis continued, “I miss the country quite a lot and I feel like settling down here, rather than the city, would be nice. More space to breathe and what not.”

“Yes,” Anne nodded agreeingly, “More space for the kids to run around in.”

“Seriously,” Harry’s face was a nice shade of sunburnt red at this point.

“You will have to pardon my concern Harry,” Anne lay her fork down diagonally across her plate, upside down to signal she was finished, “But I was nineteen when I married your father, your sister was twenty when she got engaged, it seems like a perfectly healthy concern that you’re not-”

“But most of the country isn’t ready to settle down before they can legally drink,” Harry vigorously rubbed his hands on his folded servette, eyes dark and pointing down the table.

“That doesn’t mean you aren’t sweety,” Louis cringed at the rare term of endearment in this household, not bothering to meet anybody in the eyes.

-

Harry doesn’t have sex with Louis until a year after they’d begun seeing each other. The school knew and it was rough at first but Louis didn’t care and retaliated with clever remarks when people called them faggots. It was hard to feel sorry for yourself when Louis was always so damn positive about everything.

Louis gets his acceptance letter and Harry is thrilled, mostly because Louis is staying close. Jay is at work and Harry and Louis have a day off from school that the younger girls don’t. Harry follows Louis to his house and they curl up in Louis’ bed with tea and hot chocolate. Louis strips Harry’s shirt off and Harry claims that he’s cold and Louis suggests that he help with his problem.

So he moves to straddle sixteen year old Harry and smothers him, Harry wriggles underneath him and mumbles that maybe that isn’t the best idea but Louis hushes him and presses his lips to every available expanse of skin.

-

Louis keeps Harry a secret until February. He brings Harry to Los Angeles for an award show on the tenth, they make a trip out of it and stay for Valentines day.

Harry rolls his eyes as Louis slips his hand down the front of his pants on the airplane, muttering something about joining the mile high club. Harry mutters something about not having spare briefs with him. Louis shrugs.

They land early afternoon and Louis is immediately swept away, Harry ends up showering and leans against a wall with his towel wrapped around his waist as Louis gets beautified, someone blowing his hair while a stylist held up different options for him to wear.

“What do you think Harry?” Louis points, “Grey pants, white shirt, navy blazer or black pants, white shirt, suspenders?”

“Suspenders,” Harry confirms, all the people in their room seeming kind of invasive but it doesn’t even phase Louis.

“Caroline, why don’t you have Harry try on his, see what he likes,” Louis spoke and Harry raised his eyebrows.

“I brought my own-”

“Don’t care,” Louis commented, and shooed Harry away, “I want to see.”

Harry decided on black pants and a grey blazer with a slight checked pattern on it, not that it mattered, it wasn’t like he was walking the carpet or anything.

When Harry’s done Louis is getting powdered and laughs when he’s done, forcing Harry to sit down and somehow ends up straddling him as his hair and makeup lady brushes coverup on his face. Harry groans but Louis insists, “What kind of a gay man are you if you don’t wear makeup at least once in your life.”

“A masculine one,” Louis groans as Harry shoves him off his lap but Louis comforts him and says that he looks amazing and that he’s definitely getting some later. Harry slides in the limo with Louis and his publicists and nobody thinks anything of it because he’s got a whole team with him.

At the awards show Louis walks the carpet and does interviews and Harry is dragged along by the publicists and the makeup artist. He watches as Louis fields the questions, “Louis, it’s been a while since you released a new album, do you have any idea when you are going to release a new one?”

The standard answer is late this year. He mentions that he’s been spending a lot of time in Nashville and hopes that his music will reflect it and that he has plans to make it more country. They ask him if he’s enjoying being single and he corrects them and says that he’s actually seeing somebody.

They ask who and Louis says that even if he spilled they wouldn’t know who he was.

Harry claps loudly from the seat behind him as Louis wins his award, he bounds up the stage and gives his acceptance speech.

“First of all, I would like to thank my family, like always, my amazing mother Jay and my little sisters Lottie, Felicite, Daisy, and Phoebe, I love you guys. I’d also like to thank my label, especially my producers, my amazing manager Paul, you guys make this all happen. And finally, I’d like to thank everyone back in Nashville, who called me crazy but believed in me no matter what. Of course, all my fans, I wouldn’t be here without you, thank you so much, I love you all.”

Louis is ushered back to his seat in the dark and he turns around and Harry tells him how proud he is and they stand up and dance for whatever performer is up next.

When they get back to the hotel Harry continues with his praise, “I’m so, so proud of you Lou, you have no idea.”

Louis tries to hush him with his mouth and warns that he’s going to get a big head if he keeps up with the praise.

On Valentine’s day Louis treats Harry to dinner, Harry looks amazing in black jeans, a white button up, and a grey blazer. Paparazzi were all over them at their arrival, Louis decided to hold Harry’s hand as they exited the restaurant, as if going to a fancy restaurant of Valentine’s day didn’t already scream “WE’RE TOGETHER”.

By the next morning the press had his name and they were plastered on the front of gossip sites. By the following day someone had sold a shit ton of old high school facebook pictures to the press as well, and suddenly Louis Tomlinsons’ long term high school boyfriend was identified.

Harry shrugged at the pictures because it wasn’t too bad and it was bound to happen. Louis smiled and wrapped Harry’s arm around his body and whispered “I love you” into his cheek and peppered it with kisses.

Louis began to write again, really write. He carried his guitar around with him and wrote country songs galore and Harry smiled because those were his favorite and even though they lived in the concrete jungle he felt like he was back in time when Louis would sing to him and only him around the bonfire.

A job opened up sometime in March at Harry’s office, they were looking for someone to transfer to Nashville and Harry jumped on it without even asking Louis. Louis jumped on Harry when he found out.

They found a small rental house in their home town, halfway between Harry and Louis’ childhood homes, knowing that eventually they would be moving back into Harry’s old house, where Harry would take care of the farm and Louis would transform one of the guest rooms to a music room.

In October they got married, returning to New York for an ultimately secret wedding where they could legally be recognized. Pictures weren’t leaked and it wasn’t until they’d been pap’ed with rings on their fingers that anybody noticed.

**Author's Note:**

> Ah, if you're here from my tumblr, welcome! I've been looking for a new platform and this is amazing because it's so easy to use and so much like FF ugh I love it. If you're not from my tumblr, welcome and thanks for reading my baby! And yeah, before the whole Haylor thing the summery did say Louis was a male Taylor Swift. Deal with it.


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